


The River

by lowkey_avenger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: I have no idea what to call this au, M/M, Spideypool Big Bang 2018, forest spirit au, it's cute i promise, peter is a water spirit, wade is a forest nymph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 04:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowkey_avenger/pseuds/lowkey_avenger
Summary: Prompt:A wood nymph is in love with a river spirit, letting the branches tickle the suface of the water on purpose, letting water lilies grow so he has a reason to go to the river to look for them, casully having a chat and a flirt. What he doesn't know; the river spirit deeply enjoys nourishing the plants and flowers. And the flirt.I didn't follow this exactly, but it's pretty close. A cute, short, magical au. Peter is the water spirit and Wade is the nymph.Fanart by @webbywebs can be found at the end! go check it out!





	The River

The spirit feels the branch before he sees it. It gently brushes over the surface of the river, sending ripples across the water. In a rush, the spirit swims over to the branch, snapping a hand out to grab the branch before it can pull away.

Behind the tree, he hears a low, rumbling laugh. “One of these days, I’ll get you.”

The spirit smirks and pops his head out of the water. “No, you won’t. I’m faster than you.”

A familiar hand curls around the trunk, a moment later followed by the crackling of leaves and twigs as the wood nymph rose from the forest floor. He makes his way to the edge of the water, sitting down so the two are level. “Just wait. I’ll get you.”

The spirit smiles. The nymph smiles back.

********************

The first time the spirit had seen the nymph, he’d almost drowned him. In his defense, the nymph wasn’t exactly a pretty creature, or a _polite_ creature, and he’d caught the spirit by surprise. They’d learned that the nymph wasn’t exactly water-resistant that day. It had taken the spirit a little while to get used to the nymph’s looks and behaviors after that.

He had dirt _everywhere,_ and vines that curled around his legs and arms, like veins. He had tree bark growing out of him, like a suit of armor, there to protect him from the rabbits that liked to bite at his leafy toes.

When he’d first shown up at the river, the nymph’s loud, brash behavior had gotten under the spirit’s skin. His steps were loud and harsh, he made large, leafy messes around his clean river, and worst of all, he used his plants to mess with him whenever he could. It drove the spirit crazy for _months._

But that had been months ago, and they’d grown since then. The plants had slowly become a forest, and the mess had turned into a tapestry. The nymph learned to quiet himself, and was now good enough that he could sneak up on the spirit if he wanted to. The spirit stopped trying to fight the growth of the forest and the nymph.

They both decided on a few rules to make things work; no plants in the water, no heavy water jets, no touching each other, no talking about _before_. They worked to keep the balance.

The nymph was large, loud, and dirty, but the spirit didn’t care anymore. The nymph brought beautiful plants to his river, and more importantly, he kept the spirit company. They spent most of their time together, whether it be teasing or just relaxing together. It made the spirit’s life before seem...lonely.

The spirit would never admit it, but he didn’t know what he would do with himself if the nymph ever left.

*******************

The nymph reaches out, trying to catch the spirit by surprise. The spirit is currently distracted, watering some of the plants deeper into the forest that take more focus to reach. The nymph’s vine-covered fingers stretch out over the water, just barely not touching, and across the river, a water lily blooms on the smooth surface.

The spirit immediately dashes over, snatching the flower up and throwing it into the brush. The nymph laughs, until the spirit waves his hand and sends a jet of water into his chest, knocking him over. It’s not a lot of water–the nymph would fall apart if he got too waterlogged–but it’s enough to get his point across.

“No fair!” the nymph shouts.

The spirit swims back over. “No fair? You put a plant in the water! That’s off-limits!”

“It’s a plant. That’s all I can do. Am I off-limits?”

The spirit smirks, then flicks another stream at the nymph’s head. “Yes.”

The nymph glares and raises his hand again. The spirit turns around, looking for more flowers, but he doesn’t see anything blooming. He turns back to the nymph, confused, when he feels it.

On top of his head.

He shrieks, flailing his hands and sending water everywhere around him in attempt to get the flower off.

The nymph stretches his hand out again, and the spirit freezes. He expects more flowers to start popping up all over on his body, blooming over his translucent skin, but none come. Instead, he feels a rough, dirty thumb gently run down his cheek, then pick the flower off of his head.

The nymph has broken their unspoken rule.

“See? All better,” the nymph says.

The spirit remains frozen, even after the nymph has taken his hand back. They stare at each other, the spirit’s dark eyes staring into the endless green, before he jerks back and swims away, as fast as he can, as far as he can go. The nymph doesn’t follow.

******************

The next morning, he finds a lily sitting on the river. He leaves it where it is.

******************

The spirit avoids speaking to the nymph for as long as he can.  It’s hard to do; they live together, and the spirit still has to keep his river clean and water the nymph’s plants. He keeps his head under for as long as he can, where the nymph can’t reach him. The nymph tries to reach out if he spots him, but the spirit always runs away before he can make contact.

More flowers pop up on the river in the beginning; the spirit ignores them. To his surprise, they die and fade away a few days later. The spirit clears the debris and moves on. Over time, more things begin to die. The cattails start to drop off. More and more leaves start to fall into the river–upkeep takes twice as long as it used to. The forest around him slowly starts to fade–flowers less bright, leaves less green and vibrant. The spirit begins to believe the nymph may have left entirely.

He doesn’t know how he feels about it.

*******************

The nymph’s absence leaves a strange hole in the spirit’s chest. It reminds him of when they had first met, when the nymph had first started to create the forest that now surrounds the river for miles. The spirit had seen him and nearly killed him with a jet of water. It had taken them nearly a month to see each other again without the spirit trying to kill him. It had taken two more weeks for the nymph to say hello for the first time, and almost another month before the spirit had started to say hello.

From there, everything had changed. The spirit took time to open up to the nymph, to let him grow his plants and take his water, but the nymph kept pushing, and the spirit kept letting him. Eventually, the nymph started to push a little harder, talking to him each day and keeping the conversation going for hours until the spirit caved and did his part.

They’d become friends soon after that. The spirit started the conversations and teasing just as often as the nymph did. The spirit adjusted to the nymph being in his life and began to enjoy his presence.

But then...it turned into more. The spirit found himself staring at the nymph even when they weren’t talking, found himself wishing he could leave the water to be with him when he tended to his forest. He felt empty when the nymph wasn’t around. Their friendship wasn’t enough anymore; he wanted _more._

They had met each other nearly fifty years ago; the spirit has been in love with the nymph for nearly ten. They had never spent more than a few days apart.

****************

The forest is decaying. The nymph has left. The spirit knows it. The nymph has left, and there’s nothing the spirit can do to bring him back.

The spirit spends all of his time under the water, tending to his river and trying to avoid looking at the forest.

He still waters the plants as much as he can, hanging on to what he has left.

*****************

It’s nearly six months later when they finally see each other again.

It happens when the spirit finally pokes his head up to water some of the plants he can’t see from under the surface. It’s harder to get water to them, but the spirit is determined to keep them alive. Some of them have started to brown.

He feels a branch dip into the water behind him for the first time in _months_.

In a flash, he ducks his head back under, panicked. In the recent days, some of the branches have started to fall into the water on their own. One had hit him, leaving a scratch on his shoulder. This one doesn’t fall in. It stays still, just barely touching the surface.

The spirit turns around slowly, watching as it starts to drag across the surface. It moves in a strange pattern, lifts, and starts over again.

The nymph has returned.

The spirit immediately perks up, the current around him beginning to rush with his excitement. The branch snaps back, frightened.

The spirit frantically shakes his head and calms the water. He waits until the branch begins its pattern again. The spirit focuses and tries to figure out what it is.

The branch repeats the pattern three times before the spirit understands. It’s a word, written in messy, watery cursive.

_Sorry._

Slowly, he puts his head above water again and swims over to the branch. He tentatively reaches a hand out to brush the leaves, smiles when they curl around his pale blue fingers.  

He can’t see him, but the spirit knows the nymph is nearby. He can feel it. “I’m sorry, too.” he says to the foliage.

It takes a moment for the familiar, raspy voice to respond.“Why would you be?”

The spirit can’t tell where he is, but he’s close.

“I ignored you. I chased you away. I’m sorry.” the spirit says, watching the branch as it starts to curl around his wrist as well. “I just panicked. I–I never wanted you to leave.”

“I shouldn’t have touched you. I knew it was off-limits.”

The spirit sighs and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have reacted like I did. I was scared.”

The branch around the spirit’s hand grips tighter, shakes slightly. He can feel the nymph’s frustration. “I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too.” the spirit says, then runs his free hand down the branch. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” comes the instant response. The spirit smiles.

There’s a pause, then the branch around the spirit’s hand retreats. His smile fades. There’s a silence between them, and the spirit suddenly fears he’s lost the nymph again.

Then, suddenly, the nymph speaks.

“Do you remember your life from before?”

The spirit blinks. Neither of them had ever mentioned the life before. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant subject. “What do you mean?”

“Anything. Your name, how ended up here, how you died...any of it.”

The spirit slowly nods. “I remember most of it. It’s been a long time, but most of it is still there.”

“My old name was Wade. I was a lumberjack, which I now think is very ironic.”

The spirit smiles. He has a name. “Wade.” he repeats, mostly to himself. The nymph– _Wade_ –continues, not hearing.

“I died being reckless. I went out on my own, trying to catch up when my team had fallen behind on our quota. It started to storm, bad, and I couldn’t get back to camp, so I just tried to wait it out in the forest. I couldn’t see anything. The wind knocked down a tree I had started to chop–it was on top of me before I could see what happened. The next thing I knew, I was...this.”

“Why are you telling me this?” the spirit asks gently.

There’s a pause. “I thought I was going to be alone, forever. I was lonely before, but that was something else. I thought I would never be able to speak to anyone again. I felt lonely, but I had accepted it, you know?”

The spirit looks down; he knows how it feels.

“And then I met you, and everything changed. Someone could see me again. I had someone to talk to. I had an opportunity to make a friend who understood. And it took time, but you did. We set rules, I followed them, and I didn’t have to be lonely anymore.”

“ _We_ didn’t have to be lonely anymore.” the spirit corrects him. “I had a friend, too.”

Wade laughs softly, and it echoes through the trees. “Right. It took us so long, but it was worth every single time you sprayed me for trying to grow moss on the river.”

The spirit rolls his eyes. He thinks the moss is ugly, and Wade knows it.

“I really thought I could follow the rules. I really, really thought I could. I thought being friends was _enough._ But then, it–it just…wasn’t enough anymore.”

The spirit freezes.

“I fell in love with you, and I couldn’t do it.”

The water around the spirit starts to move. The current picks up, starts to rush around him. The hole in his chest fills with fireworks and terror.

“And I’m so, _so_ sorry that I let it get the better of me. You didn’t deserve that, and I feel awful, and I just–I’m so sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, for as long as you want.”

The spirit isn’t mad. Not even a little bit. “I’m not mad. I never was.”

Wade doesn’t respond, but the trees shake around them for a moment. Leaves start to fall, hitting the surface of the water and mucking it up, but the spirit doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters more than this.

The spirit blinks. He’s never put anything above the river. That was always the most important rule–protect the river.

He turns, looks at the leaves. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything but Wade.

His rules have changed.

Slowly, he turns back and takes a breath, even if he doesn’t need to breathe anymore.

“My name was Peter, before.” he says, and instantly, everything stops moving. The spirit continues, ignoring the silence. “I was a college student. I studied the environment. I wanted to save it, bring it back to its state before humans came and ruined it. I was a perfectionist about everything I did, though that probably doesn’t surprise you.” he says, flicking a leaf out of the river and into the brush.

A small laugh comes from the woods. Peter smiles.

“I died on a camping trip. It was dark, it had rained the night before, hard. I slipped down a hill, south of here. I hit the water at the bottom and couldn’t get out. I drowned and floated away, and no one ever found me. I died alone, and when I woke up, I thought I would be alone forever, just like you.

“And I...liked it that way, to be honest, Wade. I thought it was perfect. I could do what I wanted, keep the river clean, and no one would ever interrupt me.”

Peter pauses. “But then you came along, and everything changed. You broke all of my rules, you tried to grow _moss_ in the river, and now there’s leaves all over the place and I...I don’t care anymore. None of it matters.”

Something rustles in the forest.

“I used our rules to protect me. To protect the river. They used to mean everything to me, but then they sent you away, and it hurt more than I thought possible. I missed you so much, Wade. I don’t care about any of my rules anymore. Break as many as you want. Throw a whole tree in the river, for all I care. Just please, _please,_ never leave me again.”

The rustling gets louder. The plants in front of Peter start to move, and suddenly, Wade emerges. He looks...different. Decayed. The normal green vines crossing his legs and arms look weak and dull, the green of his eyes is faded.

It takes him a minute to get out of the brush, then he settles down in front of Peter, cross-legged.

Very, very gently, Wade reaches out a hand towards Peter. He holds it out, about a foot in front of Peter’s face, and slowly, a flower blooms in his palm.

A water lily.

“I will never, ever, leave you again.” he says, looking Peter in the eye.

Gently, Peter picks the flower out from Wade’s hand. He looks down at it, admires it, then looks back up.

“I love you.”

Wade freezes. “What?”

“I love you. I have for years.”

A smile breaks out on Wade’s face. His eyes brighten, followed by the vines around his limbs and the plants around him on the ground. Peter watches, fascinated. Slowly, the life returns to the forest around him.

It starts with the plants around him first. They turn green, perk up, aim themselves to the sky. The trees revive next, the dead leaves healing and branches sprouting flowers all over. It’s beautiful, magical. Peter watches as everything comes to life in a matter of minutes. Behind him, the river begins to rush again, matching Peter’s excitement.

The wood nymph has returned to his forest.

“I love you, too.” Wade says.

Peter holds out a hand. “I’m Peter.”

Wade looks at it, then smiles back and takes it, gently shaking. “I’m Wade.”

Peter smiles back, brighter than the sun shining down on them. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

**_THE END_ **

[ ****](http://lowkey-avenger.tumblr.com/post/175800213696/hey-friends-i-did-a-thing-its-something-very) [now have some fanart](http://lowkey-avenger.tumblr.com/post/175800213696/hey-friends-i-did-a-thing-its-something-very)


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